Chalk Paths
by Shaynezo
Summary: Four lines. Four paths. Four different stories to tell.


Hey guys! New story!

 _TW: Sexual abuse, abuse, homophobia, eating disorder, v_

* * *

 **Yellow**

 **Purple**

 **Red**

 **Gold**

These are the four lines that lead to their homes. I've drawn them with chalk, four paths, if you will, each one with a different story to tell.

 **Yellow**

 **Purple**

 **Red**

 **Gold**

Leading from my house to theirs, which are right down the road. And every day before school, I trail each line to listen and observe what goes on inside.

The four are friends, but they hardly speak, because when they do they're brandied 'Liars,' and thought of as weak. No one believes what they say, the _Pretty Liars,_ they're called, but I do because of the tears they have bawled.

Yellow is first; all bright and cheery. Her name is Spencer Hastings and she's often thought of as scary. She's sharp as a tack and funny as hell, but it all screeches to a halt with the sound of a bell. It's how they call her, her mom and her dad, for they are too drunk to call her by name, but still manage to beat her like it's just a game. Yes, she is smart, more clever than most, but that hardly does anything when you're just the scapegoat.

Her life is chaotic, that much is clear. Her voice even cracks as she answers our teacher. I decide then and there to put an end to her pain, so I sneak in through her bedroom window when she's fast asleep, a syringe in each hand, while on the prowl for some sheep. They're passed out when I find them, and the needles slide in. The liquid swims in their veins and come morning they're gone. The police come and they go, but not much is said when two alcoholics are found dead in their bed.

A week after the funerals Spencer's elder sister moves into her parents' house and becomes her legal guardian. I watch from my spot as they embrace, and the ends of Spencer's lips curve up into a smile. Another week passes before Spencer comes back to school, and there is a bounce in her step. When she answers questions, her voice doesn't crack.

 ** _Yellow_**

 **Purple**

 **Red**

 **Gold**

These are the three lines that lead to each of their homes.

Purple is second; it's bold and it's brash. Her name is Aria Montgomery and while she is small, she has fists of fury. Her parents are loving; younger brother so kind, but only I can see she is losing her mind. To hide from it all, she paints and she sculpts. She's a photographer and she paints what she captures, but recently her vision has been a disaster. For we have a teacher who wears suits that are black. He is too interested in Aria, the way that he smiles holds a more devious agenda; he's ill of the heart and it makes me uneasy. But the worst of it all is that he covered her mouth. He threatened her family while he did his nasty deed; he threatened her friends as after he forced her his seed. She was crying and limping as she walked from the room, and he was smile reminded me of the Devil himself. So, that night I gave him something of my own – it's carbon monoxide and it does just wonders, because no one will ever be the wiser. Their teacher was dead from a poison in his home.

It took a while for Aria to morph back into her old self, but when she did she was a beacon of sunlight; a ray of cosmic energy. She never has to worry about the teacher obsessed with _Lolita._

 _ **Yellow**_

 _ **Purple**_

 **Red**

 **Gold**

These are two the lines that lead to their homes.

Next we have red; it's sexy and alluring. Hanna Marin is her name and she couldn't be sweeter. With her big blue eyes and wry little smirk, it's hard to notice she hardly picks up a fork. No, she is not obese, but actually quite skinny. It is her dad who starves her until he deems she is pretty. Locked in her room for days on end, with only a piece of bread now and then. He gives her water to keep her alive, not because he cares, but so his doll doesn't die. Each day she is paler; she's losing her glow. Hanna can barely walk without stumbling, but there's no use in crying – everyone will just say she is lying. I wait until he gets off work one night to proceed with my plan, and when I see him walking to his car with a briefcase in hand, I make sure to hit him with as much force as I can. His body goes flying and my car is a wreck, but it's worth it to see I have broken his neck. I don't bury the body – oh, no, that's too nice, so instead I introduce him to my hatchet. My dogs have to eat too, you know?

A failed search for Tom Marin turned up nothing – how surprising! – and in just a few days' time Hanna's mom has moved back – turns out the bastard told Hanna she was dead. How sick can you get? Tom had threatened that he would kill Hanna if Ashley ever tried to contact them, and so the two wept, because without each other they were broken. But now they are healed and that's all I can hope for. Now Hanna can eat until her heart's content. Perhaps I shall send her a brownie. _With,_ fudge.

 _ **Yellow**_

 _ **Purple**_

 _ **Red**_

 **Gold**

This is the one line that leads to her home.

Gold is last but not least – it's valuable and shiny, and no one has a bigger heart of it than she. Emily Fields is her name; killer legs and a smile to melt tungsten. This girl, holy shit, can she swim, but she bats for the same team, if you know what I mean. Her mother is toxic and fills her head with lies, causing Emily to come to school with tears in her eyes. " _I won't have this in my house,"_ her mother will scream, over and over until she's lost her steam. Her mother is deplorable; trying to change her daughter, for who can claim loving the same gender is wrong? I say fuck her (I'd so bang her daughter), and lead her to slaughter. She meets me at the church one night, stricken with grief, over the thought of Emily being caught in the sheets, with the girl down the street, who has golden locks, and kisses Emily like she's her whole world, and it's amazing to me. The deed is done quick, a bullet in Pam's brain, and as I wash and I clean, I think where to bury when suddenly it hits me - what better than the pet cemetery? Before I toss her body in, I throw in some flags of all sorts of colors and symbols of Pride.

This one is hardest, you see, because while Emily's mom was a bitch, Emily still loved her. She was distraught; almost overwhelmed with pain at the idea that her mother would leave her. Of course I took care of all of that – hopefully some little tykes won't find her body. Her father flies in and tears are shred, but it's a happy reunion because Emily will finally get the love and affection she deserves. Wayne even invites the DiLaurentis' girl over for dinner. They're cute, the two of them.

 _ **Yellow**_

 _ **Purple**_

 _ **Red**_

 _ **Gold**_

These are the four lines that once led to their homes. They have been erased since their lives are going quite well, and it's wonderful to see what a little vigilantism can do. My name is Mona and as you have seen, while I'm no poet, but my message is clear:

 _ **Don't. Fuck. With. My. Girls.**_


End file.
